Blessed by the Divines
by R. Knee-Socks
Summary: A young woman from an old tribe nestled deep in Skyrim's mountains sets out to enjoy her life as any reckless person would do: with lots of drinking and fighting. What she gets is the adventure of a lifetime, the responsibility to protect all life in the land, and feelings for someone that she was sure she'd never have.


A/N: This is my first submission ever. Also, I haven't actually written any kind of story in years, so forgive me if I screw up.

Her nose was itchy.

Maybe it was just all the dust the carts were throwing up as they hauled her to- wherever they were going. Maybe if she had just listened to her mother and stayed within the home lands, she wouldn't be in this situation.

She had to be the rebellious one.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." Great. The dim-witted blonde guy wanted to start a conversation.

"Please tell me I'm in the middle of some really horrendously boring dream."

The man smiled, but there was no mirth in his gaze. Guess a dream was too much to hope for. She really wish she hadn't insisted today specifically to enter Skyrim. If this was one of her mother's cruel jokes, then she was not amused. It was not above her to give her a good scare just to laugh at her. She always got a kick out of that.

"So what's your name, lass? Seeing as we're stuck in a wagon, might as well get to know your name."

Her impassive stare obviously needed some work, because he just sat there, waiting expectantly despite her obvious hints to leave her alone. Sighing in defeat, she grumbled.

"Shara."

The man raised an eyebrow at that. "No family name? Title? Nothing?"

Honestly, she had debated uttering her family name, but that would only have ended two ways. Either the men around her would look down at her in disgust and ridicule, or they'd just look at her stupidly like most people these days were prone to doing. At least, that's what her mother had told her.

'_I __hope __you__'__re __getting __a __good __laugh __outta __this__, __old __hag__._'

"General Tullius, the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves... I bet they had something to do with this..."

Shara was still trying unsuccessfully to dislodge the irritating dirt particles from her nose with no hands. Seriously, how come she was the only one with her hands BEHIND her back? Her interest was diverted, however, at the mention of elves. She'd never seen an elf up close, and she wanted a look. Looking past the droning man, she could see a golden skinned woman riding what appeared to be a war steed.

'_Meh__. __Obviously __tall__. __Nice __skin __tone__. __Face __looks __like __it __could __use __a __bit __of __love__. __Body __isn__'__t __really __all __that __great__, __especially __considering __what __that __robe __looks __like__. __Tits __are __pretty __small__. __I __thought __elves __were __supposed __to __be __good __looking__..._'

"I assume that's a high elf?"

The blonde native looked at her like you would look at a dim-witted child. Not the nicest gesture, but tolerable, considering it shut him up for a little.

"Yes. Part of the Aldmeri Dominion. Bunch of damn high elves running around like they own the place."

Ah. That was it. Shara'd heard of the White-Gold Concordant. Something about subjugating the Empire. She knew that stories of the beauty of other races were obviously exaggerated, but really? Elves were always revered as good-looking. Judging by this... thing sitting on her horse acting all high and mighty, they were nowhere near as great as any story depicted them.

"Why are we stopping?" the cowardly little thief whimpered.

"Why do you think? End of the line."

Oh, great. Just great. Not even a day into her new adventure into this cold, gods-forsaken landscape and she was already at the headsman's block. She had so much planned! All the mischief she could cause, all the drinking and brawling she'd partake in... all of that dreaming for what? To end up getting her head lopped off and then having to hope that somehow her remains would make it all the way back to her family just to get it put back on to have a proper burial. She'd seen it happen to an older cousin. It was quite disgusting.

In hindsight, she should have planned better.

"Line up as we call your names, one at a time."

Shara rolled her eyes at that. A boot-licking commanding officer. Obviously wanting to look good in front of her general. Maybe get a promotion.

"Empire loves their damn lists."

Shara smiled a grim smile. "Almost as much as licking their superior's boots just so that they can get a damn promotion."

The men and women around her chuckled mirthlessly even as the Captain, a Redguard woman, shot her with an angry look. She simply smiled as prettily as she could, considering she was covered in dirt, a hint of malice barely lidded in her gaze.

The names were read.

Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm.

'_Hmm__, __never __would__'__ve __figured __him __for __a __Jarl__._'

Ralof of Riverwood.

'_So __that __was __his __name__._'

Lokir of Rorikstead.

'_What __an __in significant __little __prick__._'

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

'_Oh__, __wow__. __He__'__s __running__._'

"Halt!"

"He's not going to stop until he's dead, you know."

The Captain threw a scowl her way. "ARCHERS!"

'_Aaaaand__... __dead__. __Not __like __he __was __gonna __make __it __far__._'

"What a whiny little milk-drinking bitch."

That earned her more grim chuckles from the rest of the prisoners.

"Anyone else feel like running?!" the Captain yelled, glancing over at Shara, as if expecting an answer. All she got was a shrug of shoulders. "Nothing witty to remark, prisoner?"

Rising to the challenge, Shara grinned lazily. "Low-hanging fruit. Sometimes it's too easy."

"Who are you?" said the kind-looking Imperial man holding the list at her side.

A momentary pause. "Shara."

He skimmed through the list carefully, a look in his eyes as if hoping her name wasn't there. It wasn't, she knew, but that still didn't mean that (insert bad captain name here) was going to let her go. Fine. She'd just have to deal with the massive scar from the headman's axe.

"Look, can we move this along? These bindings are really uncomfortable. That and my nose itches."

The Imperial man chuckled softly, "You're not from around here, are you?"

"Not really..."

He turned to his superior officer. "Captain. She's not on the list. Maybe we should consider-"

"Forget the list. She goes to the block."

Yeah. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to badmouth a Captain of the Empire. Ah, well. Too late to do anything anyway. Shara merely shrugged her shoulders, and walked over to stand next to Ralof.

"Ulfric Stormcloak."

'_Here __comes __the __monologue__..._'

"Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use the power of the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Shara's face crossed into a frown. He used his voice to kill him? What did he do? Talk him to death?

"You started this war... Plunged Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

A distant roar rolled over, causing everyone including Shara to look around in puzzlement.

"What was that...?" the list-taking man spoke.

"It was nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius!"

"Ass-kisser."

An audible growl was heard that time, bringing a smile to Shara's pink lips.

"Give them their last rites."

A priestess of Arkay walked up, and began to speak the rites of what she assumed was the belief of the Empire.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines shine upo-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!" said the red-headed Nord to her left.

'_Okay__, __obviously __something __hit __a __nerve__._'

"Come on! I haven't got all morning!" he said in defiance. Obviously the man wasn't squeamish at the prospect of death. The headsman's axe was brought slowly up, and then came down with a reverberating crack, followed by the squelching sound of blood leaving the body. The man's head rolled into the basket placed before the platform. All that blood. Shara began to wonder just how much it would hurt.

"Next, the snarky Nord!"

How amusing. As if that was meant to deter her. It would only fuel her incessant prodding.

Another roar. Closer this time. That was enough to make her nervous.

"There it is again." Everyone was looking around now, trying to find the source of the strange noise.

"I said, NEXT PRISONER." the Captain said, words dripping with venom. Shara debated saying something to that, but she held her tongue. Nothing more needed to be said.

"To the block prisoner. Nice and easy."

Shrugging her shoulders, Shara languidly strolled over to the block, lazily coming to rest on her knees. She sat there as a small twinge of nervousness poked her stomach. She quickly squashed it the same way one would squash a fly after his or her meal. It was no time to show weakness.

A knee shoved her down onto the block, bashing her head against the stone. She threw a sneer to the woman with her foot on her back, but didn't say anything. The headsman took a step back before hefting the axe over his shoulder to strike.

The whole flasing-before-your-eyes moment didn't happen. Instead, time itself seemd to slow to a crawl as a massive black shape rounded the mountain, seeming like a moving void across the calm, blue sky. She could faintly hear cries of "What is that!" and "Run!" around her, but she stayed frozen in awe at the monster in front of her. Was that a-

"DRAGON!"

The black beast opened its maw and let loose a vile shout down on the people below. The skies darkened and what smelled like brimstone began to fall from the rolling black clouds above. The view was terrifying, and it froze Shara on the spot, still on the block. A voice nearby brought her back to lucidity.

"Kinsman! Come on! The gods won't give us another chance!"

With the assistance of Ralof, she sprinted the short distance into the nearby tower, where she let herself hit the wall with a dull thud, catching her breath and attempting to figure out what she had just seen.

First though, she had to live through whatever was happening now.

Seconds later, she bounded up the stairs, attempting to find a way out. Another Nord was standing on the steps, attempting to clear rubble. He saw her, and began to speak.

"If we can just clear this rubble, we can-"

The dark creature burst through the wall, letting loose a breath of flame so hot that the resulting explosion of air knocked her back down the stairwell into Ralof, who had the grace to catch her.

"You alright, kinsman?"

Shara nodded. "I'm fine for now. We need to get out of here!"

Up the stairs they went again, seeing the gaping hole in the wall. The house next to the tower was on fire, and it was enough of a distance to deter her from jumping.

"You have to jump!"

Shara glared at him. "Are you insane?"

"It's not that far! Look, go on ahead and get out! I still need to get the others!"

She conceded defeat, and took a deep breath before throwing herself over the edge, landing awkwardly enough to twist her ankle. Her short yell of pain was cut off by the sound of the winged lizard flying over, and she continued to limp on.

Outside the house was total chaos. Fire raged everywhere, walls were torn down, and people scrambled for cover, hoping to live through the onslaught of death rained down upon them. She saw a familiar figure approach with his sword drawn.

"Still alive, prisoner?"

"No thanks to you!"

A nervous smile. "Well if you want to stay that way, keep close! We're getting out of here!"

Shara waited as the man gave a command to an elderly man and a child. "Stay with the boy! I have to find General Tullius and join the defence!"

"Gods guide you, Hadvar."

So that was his name, then. Hadvar.

"What now?"

"Follow me! We need to get inside the main fort! We can find another way out down there!"

And so they ran, stopping only when it seemed the dragon would focus their attention on them. Soon enough though, the found a familiar face amongst the chaos.

"Ralof, you damned traitor. Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time!"

The dragon's shout above them roared, sending more nearby soldiers to their deaths.

Hadvar shook his head in anger. "Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

"You there! With me! Quickly!"

"Come on, prisoner! We need to go!"

If anyone asked why she chose what she did in that instant, Shara would never have been able to answer. It was a decision made by instinct and therefore unexplainable. The logical choice would have been to run with Ralof, and be a free woman. She'd be free. But in that instant, her mind wasn't functioning.

She ran with Hadvar into the keep.

A/N: Updates should be weekly, I've already got a few chapters lined up. Reviews would be welcome to help improve of course. :)


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